I hate asking for anything, but if any of you can do so, please consider donating to help pay for one of our artist's cancer treatment. Any little bit helps. Thank you.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Do You...
Let go easily? I don't. I often hang on, even when all signs suggest that letting go would be best. The more I fight it, though, the less progress I make. When I finally do let go, things seem to start falling into place. I envy people who can so easily move on and not look back.
I normally don't like to talk about work in my blog posts, but yesterday was such a strange day. I let others affect me too much. This was an odd situation, because in all the years I have helped hire people, I have never had an experience like it.
My co-worker and I were conducting interviews, and all was going just fine. We had already talked to several people who seemed like good candidates for the job available. One of the last prospective employees came in and went right up to the owner to introduce himself. He was an older gentleman, and we were all a little confused as to how he knew who the owner was and why he went past the two of us at the desk without a nod. My boss redirected him back to the desk.
Because he came unprepared and we had to print up his resume, I asked him to have a seat and wait. Our printer isn't the fastest on the planet, so it took a few minutes. Before the machine had spit out the printed material, he leaned over and, in a very snarky tone, asked if we had figured it out yet. My co-worker and I eyed each other, but I smiled one of those obviously fake smiles and said that everything was under control.
Now for the WTF part...
I was conducting the interview, so I started with what seemed a good question: What made you decide that you want to work in an art gallery? To which he replied in an arrogant tone, "Well, I haven't decided if I want to work in a gallery. How would I know if I do or not?" I started to change the question and ask why he applied to the job posting, but he got rude about it, going on (as if I were some idiot) about how there would be no way to know without trying it and blah fucking blah, so I cut him off and told him that it wouldn't work out and thanked him for coming in etc. And then he started arguing with me, asking me how I knew it wouldn't work. Um, because working with holes usually doesn't? Jeez, what the hell is wrong with people? I finally asked him to leave.
Even little shitty situations like that are upsetting to me. Most people would probably laugh about how bizarre people can be, but it was disturbing to me on some level. I don't get why people act so full of themselves.
My mom likes to share a story from her past about people with big egos. I have mentioned that my dad was a genius, one of those well-respected physicists who rubbed elbows with the big wigs of his time. Anyway, my mom and dad were at a lunch with Edward Teller and a few others, because Teller wanted my dad to work on the H bomb, which he refused to do, just as he had done when approached by Oppenheimer for the A bomb. John Wheeler was there too. He's the guy who coined the term Black Hole. My mom was talking to him while Teller was talking to my dad. They started discussing egos and intelligence. My mom mentioned that being born with a well-functioning brain is not all that different from being born with a good liver or a strong heart. Nobody brags about a well-formed liver, though. There's so much left up to chance when it comes to being born a certain way. Add work and opportunity to the genetic factor, and then you get success. Wheeler, said that he had never thought of it that way, but it seemed to be a light bulb over the head moment for him.
It seems weird to me that people get a big ego over how smart they supposedly are or how fast they run. I guess I get it in some ways. You know what impresses me? People who get up and do the 9-5 thing and are functional. What impresses me more are those who can be kind, calm and compassionate in the face of conflict. I can't do it, so anyone who can is a fucking rock star in my eyes.
I normally don't like to talk about work in my blog posts, but yesterday was such a strange day. I let others affect me too much. This was an odd situation, because in all the years I have helped hire people, I have never had an experience like it.
My co-worker and I were conducting interviews, and all was going just fine. We had already talked to several people who seemed like good candidates for the job available. One of the last prospective employees came in and went right up to the owner to introduce himself. He was an older gentleman, and we were all a little confused as to how he knew who the owner was and why he went past the two of us at the desk without a nod. My boss redirected him back to the desk.
Because he came unprepared and we had to print up his resume, I asked him to have a seat and wait. Our printer isn't the fastest on the planet, so it took a few minutes. Before the machine had spit out the printed material, he leaned over and, in a very snarky tone, asked if we had figured it out yet. My co-worker and I eyed each other, but I smiled one of those obviously fake smiles and said that everything was under control.
Now for the WTF part...
I was conducting the interview, so I started with what seemed a good question: What made you decide that you want to work in an art gallery? To which he replied in an arrogant tone, "Well, I haven't decided if I want to work in a gallery. How would I know if I do or not?" I started to change the question and ask why he applied to the job posting, but he got rude about it, going on (as if I were some idiot) about how there would be no way to know without trying it and blah fucking blah, so I cut him off and told him that it wouldn't work out and thanked him for coming in etc. And then he started arguing with me, asking me how I knew it wouldn't work. Um, because working with holes usually doesn't? Jeez, what the hell is wrong with people? I finally asked him to leave.
Even little shitty situations like that are upsetting to me. Most people would probably laugh about how bizarre people can be, but it was disturbing to me on some level. I don't get why people act so full of themselves.
My mom likes to share a story from her past about people with big egos. I have mentioned that my dad was a genius, one of those well-respected physicists who rubbed elbows with the big wigs of his time. Anyway, my mom and dad were at a lunch with Edward Teller and a few others, because Teller wanted my dad to work on the H bomb, which he refused to do, just as he had done when approached by Oppenheimer for the A bomb. John Wheeler was there too. He's the guy who coined the term Black Hole. My mom was talking to him while Teller was talking to my dad. They started discussing egos and intelligence. My mom mentioned that being born with a well-functioning brain is not all that different from being born with a good liver or a strong heart. Nobody brags about a well-formed liver, though. There's so much left up to chance when it comes to being born a certain way. Add work and opportunity to the genetic factor, and then you get success. Wheeler, said that he had never thought of it that way, but it seemed to be a light bulb over the head moment for him.
It seems weird to me that people get a big ego over how smart they supposedly are or how fast they run. I guess I get it in some ways. You know what impresses me? People who get up and do the 9-5 thing and are functional. What impresses me more are those who can be kind, calm and compassionate in the face of conflict. I can't do it, so anyone who can is a fucking rock star in my eyes.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
A New Day
A friend posted this link on my timeline, just as I was facing #14 an #15 : http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/there-are-no-rules/15-things-a-writer-should-never-do?et_mid=618300&rid=233065722
I'm still in quit mode, but maybe it's temporary.
In better news, I ran yesterday. Go me.
This video is kick ass:
Don't forget tomorrow night at Nissi's:
https://www.facebook.com/events/505689932825555/
For whatever reason, this is stuck in my head:
I'm still in quit mode, but maybe it's temporary.
In better news, I ran yesterday. Go me.
This video is kick ass:
Don't forget tomorrow night at Nissi's:
https://www.facebook.com/events/505689932825555/
For whatever reason, this is stuck in my head:
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
The Monkey On My Back
Check out this interview: http://ultrarunnerpodcast.com/george-zack-interview/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=george-zack-interview
I "should" be writing articles, but sometimes I can't bring myself to even think about anything running related.
Running, cooking and writing have all been activities I felt compelled to do at one time or another. I've never been one of those people who experiences great joy from doing the things I feel driven to do. That doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed aspects of these activities, and I have been content when time ceases to exist when I get caught up being in the moment while doing them. I'm just saying that I'm not the type to claim that I run, write and cook because any of these labors make me happy. These actions may improve my mood or distract me from bad feelings. They may even make me temporarily happy, but rarely do I go at them thinking, "Oh, this will be fun."
Recently I met an artist who shows his work in a gallery in Boulder. He describes his painting as the monkey on his back, driving him to improve and push himself. My problem is that lately I'm stuck in big black and white thinking. It makes no sense to push myself running when I'm tired and can't even imagine running 7-minute pace anymore. So I go out and jog and occasionally jog a little faster. No monkey on my back directing me there, unless you consider the sheer compulsion to run the little simian cracking the whip. I'm not even a runner anymore. In fact, a neighbor mentioned that she saw me JOGGING the other day, jogging, not running. And I was jogging. Fucking hell.
I stopped cooking completely when I realized how tied up in my eating disorder making food for others was, and I don't really have the desire to get back into that. Writing is as much of a joke, maybe even more, as my running, only at least I have history with running. Running is also supposed to be good for my health, in theory anyway. On the other hand, writing doesn't have the potential to further wreck my body.
It's funny that I never thought about quitting horseback riding, even though I knew I would never amount to much in that sport. I quit only when running had become my obsession. My friend was a talented rider. I wasn't gifted, but I enjoyed doing it. Improvements tend to come quickly at first with riding, and there's always work to be done on on the relationship and connection with the horse, which is much different than other sports. It's easier to accept not being the best when there are so many other issues to consider in riding. Lately, though, I'm finding it difficult to accept not having the potential to be good at something. My big question is: Why bother? I don't know if musicians ever experience this, but I assume some of them do. Others are probably content to just do what they do, whether they reach an audience or not.
I'm thinking about quitting writing. Actually, I am quitting for now. I'm giving up writing fiction, for sure and taking a break from the articles, too. Fiction is definitely not my thing. I think it takes a certain kind of individual to write fiction, and it's not me. Right now, I'm just going to take a break from all of it and see what happens. I may still blog, but that's not structured writing. It's more me spilling my thoughts out on the computer screen, which I might need, as I'm too caught up in my head these days.
Whatever new hobby I decide to try, I'm thinking getting the monkey off my back might be a good thing. Maybe I'll take up professional TV watching.
*****
I "should" be writing articles, but sometimes I can't bring myself to even think about anything running related.
Running, cooking and writing have all been activities I felt compelled to do at one time or another. I've never been one of those people who experiences great joy from doing the things I feel driven to do. That doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed aspects of these activities, and I have been content when time ceases to exist when I get caught up being in the moment while doing them. I'm just saying that I'm not the type to claim that I run, write and cook because any of these labors make me happy. These actions may improve my mood or distract me from bad feelings. They may even make me temporarily happy, but rarely do I go at them thinking, "Oh, this will be fun."
Recently I met an artist who shows his work in a gallery in Boulder. He describes his painting as the monkey on his back, driving him to improve and push himself. My problem is that lately I'm stuck in big black and white thinking. It makes no sense to push myself running when I'm tired and can't even imagine running 7-minute pace anymore. So I go out and jog and occasionally jog a little faster. No monkey on my back directing me there, unless you consider the sheer compulsion to run the little simian cracking the whip. I'm not even a runner anymore. In fact, a neighbor mentioned that she saw me JOGGING the other day, jogging, not running. And I was jogging. Fucking hell.
I stopped cooking completely when I realized how tied up in my eating disorder making food for others was, and I don't really have the desire to get back into that. Writing is as much of a joke, maybe even more, as my running, only at least I have history with running. Running is also supposed to be good for my health, in theory anyway. On the other hand, writing doesn't have the potential to further wreck my body.
It's funny that I never thought about quitting horseback riding, even though I knew I would never amount to much in that sport. I quit only when running had become my obsession. My friend was a talented rider. I wasn't gifted, but I enjoyed doing it. Improvements tend to come quickly at first with riding, and there's always work to be done on on the relationship and connection with the horse, which is much different than other sports. It's easier to accept not being the best when there are so many other issues to consider in riding. Lately, though, I'm finding it difficult to accept not having the potential to be good at something. My big question is: Why bother? I don't know if musicians ever experience this, but I assume some of them do. Others are probably content to just do what they do, whether they reach an audience or not.
I'm thinking about quitting writing. Actually, I am quitting for now. I'm giving up writing fiction, for sure and taking a break from the articles, too. Fiction is definitely not my thing. I think it takes a certain kind of individual to write fiction, and it's not me. Right now, I'm just going to take a break from all of it and see what happens. I may still blog, but that's not structured writing. It's more me spilling my thoughts out on the computer screen, which I might need, as I'm too caught up in my head these days.
Whatever new hobby I decide to try, I'm thinking getting the monkey off my back might be a good thing. Maybe I'll take up professional TV watching.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Thursday at Nissi's
Green Light Radio is having a fundraiser to help less fortunate kids go to Rock and Roll Camp. We will be providing Greenlight Grants to kids who normally can't afford it to attend Doghouse Music's summer Rock and Roll Camp in Lafayette. There will also be a show @ the end with 4 Music acts, Djs, a Silent Auction w/ autographed memorabilia (Devotchka, Big Head Todd) and items donated by many generous businesses. Please come on out and help Greenlight Radio give back to the community.
We would like to give major thanks to Nissi's for graciously providing the venue
Matty Graziano, Highway 50, DJ Ayrex and SOUND RABBIT will be headlining!!!
In case you missed it, here's the interview with Nate Klein:
5/15/2013 the porcelain dolls/nate klein/g girl from KGLR
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Times Are Tough
I just got bombarded with a ton of medical bills. It made me realize that I'm probably not the only one struggling financially.
Until May 19th, I'm offering a free copy of my ebook to anyone who wants it. Spread the word and play it forward:
The code is: MD64Z
You have to create an account, but it's pretty easy to do.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Wednesday May 15th at Midnight
Tune in to Greenlightradio.com
Here's the event: https://www.facebook.com/events/371685132953236/
Nate Klein did an an interview with us that will be aired around midnight Wednesday May 15th.
For more information about Nate's music, check out the following links:
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Coupon and Update
Yesterday was my mom's birthday. I ordered some Poilane bread from France as part of her gift, and it was a hit. There are some good breads in the United States, but Poilane bread is extraordinary. I have complained about bread insides or brinnards before. There's something unpleasant (repulsive was what came to mind, but that's a bit harsh) to me about squishy bread. Wonder Bread is about as bad as it gets. I know people like the soft texture of many American breads, but that's not for me. Poilane bread is real bread. It has some substance to it. It's not mushy. If a loaf, boule or baguette has a good amount of innards, chewy with air holes is just fine. Soft makes me cringe. Poilane bread definitely has insides with texture. Check out these slices:
Before I forget, Mother's day is coming up, and I want to offer a coupon for 40% off my book, Training on Empty. The coupon will be effective until May 14th. Spread the word!
 |
| Bread this good doesn't need toasting. |
The code is: SR28T
I know I haven't been blogging like I used to. There are a few reasons for that. The last week, I spent my days pumping out 1,000 words a day or so of complete junk. It was an experiment, just to see if I could do it. It turns out that when you drop the attachments, you get out of your own way. I've mentioned that concept in running. Move away from times and place, and it's easier to be in the moment to get the job done. It has been an interesting lesson.
Speaking of running, I haven't been doing much of it. I think my running days are over, and I've sort of accepted that. It has been a long, rough winter. There was the whole foot infection thing and many illnesses. I finally went to see the doctor again. It turns out that my blood test from way back in February wasn't normal, even though I was told it was. I had a long talk with my doctor, and we are working on getting to the bottom of my issues. There are things I will address later, but the big symptoms are improving. I'm no longer experiencing these weird body chills that grip me in the middle of the night, and I'm not getting as dizzy when I stand up these days. I'll take any improvements I can get.
One thing that she said was that it might help if I eat more, and I have to admit that it didn't sit well with me at first. I kept thinking (always too much in my head) that I shouldn't be eating MORE if I'm not working out much, but I guess stress burns calories. It's not like I was eating LESS, really, I was just not as hungry when I wasn't feeling well. I was sort of eating the same, even though my appetite was hard to find. It's funny how I had some conflict in my head about it, but I know I'm in a better place these days. In the past, I would have gone back to the same routine. Instead, I threw in some bigger portions and a few snacks. I think it might be helping. The main thing is that I felt like I needed to trust someone and took my doctor's advice. I will probably know more at the end of the month.
I will try to be better about regular blogging. Getting out of this hole is taking some doing, so my energy has been directed elsewhere.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
It's out!
Those of you who read my blog with any regularity might remember that I did an interview with Zachary Tipton. Here's the link to that interview: http://trainingonempty.blogspot.com/2013/01/interview-with-zachary-tipton.html
This is just a quick note to let you all know that his new album is out, and I have already downloaded it, which you can do at the following link: http://misterzach.bandcamp.com/
Once again, Zach has blown me away with his talent as a musician. I really hope people take the time to check it out, because I don't think I can do the album justice with written words. Sometimes music is defined with the other senses and can be hard to describe. It hits on a deeper level and can't be explained to its fullest, more felt. So take a listen, support a wonderfully gifted and hard-working artist and enjoy the sounds of what he has created!
This is just a quick note to let you all know that his new album is out, and I have already downloaded it, which you can do at the following link: http://misterzach.bandcamp.com/
Once again, Zach has blown me away with his talent as a musician. I really hope people take the time to check it out, because I don't think I can do the album justice with written words. Sometimes music is defined with the other senses and can be hard to describe. It hits on a deeper level and can't be explained to its fullest, more felt. So take a listen, support a wonderfully gifted and hard-working artist and enjoy the sounds of what he has created!
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Thoughts of a Dying Atheist
Don't worry. It's a song title, not a farewell letter.
My immune system seems to be on vacation this year. I assume stress has a lot to do with my inability to stay healthy lately. The foot infection thing was probably more of a big deal than I thought it was initially. I'm sick again, and I have given up dreams of racing at all this summer, maybe ever. I have to start with some small goals, like being able to run at all, and before that, being able to get through six days of any kind of exercise, even walking. I'm basically starting over once my glands aren't so swollen that it looks like I've got two golf balls stuck in my throat. I don't think my foot is healed yet, either, so doing a lot of nothing is probably keeping me from totally wrecking my right knee, hip and my back, though even with the little bit of puttering around I have managed, everything hurts. Small shit, I know.
My immune system seems to be on vacation this year. I assume stress has a lot to do with my inability to stay healthy lately. The foot infection thing was probably more of a big deal than I thought it was initially. I'm sick again, and I have given up dreams of racing at all this summer, maybe ever. I have to start with some small goals, like being able to run at all, and before that, being able to get through six days of any kind of exercise, even walking. I'm basically starting over once my glands aren't so swollen that it looks like I've got two golf balls stuck in my throat. I don't think my foot is healed yet, either, so doing a lot of nothing is probably keeping me from totally wrecking my right knee, hip and my back, though even with the little bit of puttering around I have managed, everything hurts. Small shit, I know.
I have been trying to think of what to write about Boston, Texas and the world in general. It's weird to me that in the midst of such devastating news, there are people more concerned with promoting themselves or their agenda, or who are too self centered to just fucking stop for a moment and think before blurting out an opinion, thought or statement. Of course I'm also dealing with the tragic events of people close to me, things not in the public eye, so all the mayhem and childish "look at me!" behavior that goes on on the internet makes me even more disgusted. Right now, I don't have the patience for comments based entirely on incorrect assumptions about motive and feelings. It's impossible to know what someone feels based on a few words on a computer screen. I really wish people who insist on commenting and putting their opinions out there for all to see would consider the effect that words might have on others.
In an email from Bobby McGee about the events that unfolded in Boston, he stated something about runners, those who are part of the solution to the world's problems. He went on to talk about these people making an effort to change the world into a healthier, happier, more inclusive place. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be? The world confuses me lately. With tragedy, one would hope that the result would be people bonding and coming closer together. Instead, I see more of the absurdity that occurs in life. There are people being pulled apart, and there seems to be a triggering of more upset and violence. I understand the anger, but I have never understood vengeance. That doesn't mean I support anyone on a rampage or the actions of a killer; it means that I don't agree that violence met with more violence solves anything.
I hope that people can find compassion in the midst of all the chaos and look at the heroic acts, rather than focus on retaliation and blame. Bobby is right. This is a time to reconnect, strengthen and choose right action. I've been in shock since I watch the events unfold. How can something like that happen at a marathon, for fuck's sake? Of course, it shouldn't happen anywhere, but it's even more confusing when something so cruel happens at an event in which people are so completely defenseless, and the atmosphere is one of encouragement and joy. Through it all, there is tremendous sadness, a sadness that some will carry for a lifetime. There will never be any understanding around these kinds of acts that are so unjustified and heinous. The best thing I can think of to do is to look within and see how I might change my own behavior. How can I make a difference? I don't have the answer, but I believe that the running community has already displayed many examples of kindness, bravery and love despite these most terrible events. My heart goes out to everyone who was affected by these senseless atrocities.
In an email from Bobby McGee about the events that unfolded in Boston, he stated something about runners, those who are part of the solution to the world's problems. He went on to talk about these people making an effort to change the world into a healthier, happier, more inclusive place. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be? The world confuses me lately. With tragedy, one would hope that the result would be people bonding and coming closer together. Instead, I see more of the absurdity that occurs in life. There are people being pulled apart, and there seems to be a triggering of more upset and violence. I understand the anger, but I have never understood vengeance. That doesn't mean I support anyone on a rampage or the actions of a killer; it means that I don't agree that violence met with more violence solves anything.
I hope that people can find compassion in the midst of all the chaos and look at the heroic acts, rather than focus on retaliation and blame. Bobby is right. This is a time to reconnect, strengthen and choose right action. I've been in shock since I watch the events unfold. How can something like that happen at a marathon, for fuck's sake? Of course, it shouldn't happen anywhere, but it's even more confusing when something so cruel happens at an event in which people are so completely defenseless, and the atmosphere is one of encouragement and joy. Through it all, there is tremendous sadness, a sadness that some will carry for a lifetime. There will never be any understanding around these kinds of acts that are so unjustified and heinous. The best thing I can think of to do is to look within and see how I might change my own behavior. How can I make a difference? I don't have the answer, but I believe that the running community has already displayed many examples of kindness, bravery and love despite these most terrible events. My heart goes out to everyone who was affected by these senseless atrocities.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Shocker
Wow, I have neglected this blog. On the off chance anyone noticed, yes, it has been a while since I last posted. I have also deserted my fellow bloggers, something I don't like doing. Where have I disappeared to these last few weeks? Well, I got sucked up into my own head, which isn't a great place to be. It can get really dark in here.
The other day I caught a bit of the live broadcast of the hackathon taking place in Colorado. It got me thinking about DIY media, of course, both the pros and the cons. The great thing about DIY media is that anyone can be a blogger, author, podcaster, DJ or journalist. That's also the bad thing about DIY anything.
Aside from the distraction of a really nice dinner with a good friend at Riffs in Boulder and an OK run in the warmer weather that has since dropped out of sight, I've been struggling in all areas. When it gets this bad, I start to ask the big questions. Still searching for a purpose, I seem to be drifting, too lost in thought to write much, too tired and hurt to run much and too afraid to change much, I settle for all-out mediocrity. Long gone are my days of going for it. It all seems so fucking pointless. Not only is my confidence shaken in all areas of my life, I'm struck, like a frying pan to the face moment, with just how absurd it is to try. Why write when you know you will never even come close to writing like the best? Why run when 7-minute pace suddenly seems impossible? What's left? Sleep. Sleep and mindlessly getting through the day: work, eat, sleep, sleep more, wake up and wish it would end. I'm fucking tired. I've had enough.
I sometimes wish I could turn off my mind. I watch bits and pieces of the Monsantogate story unfold and wonder if Orwell could have predicted something similar and how his tale would have ended. The world seems so very fucked up.
How depressing. I feel a blog post brewing, but I haven't decided what direction to take it. Until I'm more fully out of this funk, I think I will go back into hibernation.
Enjoy this while I'm gone:
The other day I caught a bit of the live broadcast of the hackathon taking place in Colorado. It got me thinking about DIY media, of course, both the pros and the cons. The great thing about DIY media is that anyone can be a blogger, author, podcaster, DJ or journalist. That's also the bad thing about DIY anything.
Aside from the distraction of a really nice dinner with a good friend at Riffs in Boulder and an OK run in the warmer weather that has since dropped out of sight, I've been struggling in all areas. When it gets this bad, I start to ask the big questions. Still searching for a purpose, I seem to be drifting, too lost in thought to write much, too tired and hurt to run much and too afraid to change much, I settle for all-out mediocrity. Long gone are my days of going for it. It all seems so fucking pointless. Not only is my confidence shaken in all areas of my life, I'm struck, like a frying pan to the face moment, with just how absurd it is to try. Why write when you know you will never even come close to writing like the best? Why run when 7-minute pace suddenly seems impossible? What's left? Sleep. Sleep and mindlessly getting through the day: work, eat, sleep, sleep more, wake up and wish it would end. I'm fucking tired. I've had enough.
I sometimes wish I could turn off my mind. I watch bits and pieces of the Monsantogate story unfold and wonder if Orwell could have predicted something similar and how his tale would have ended. The world seems so very fucked up.
How depressing. I feel a blog post brewing, but I haven't decided what direction to take it. Until I'm more fully out of this funk, I think I will go back into hibernation.
Enjoy this while I'm gone:
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Streaks
I'm not talking running streaks today. Those are puzzling to me, though they do show how compulsive a person can be. The more I give up on running, the more ridiculous it all seems to me, and yet I am familiar with that crazy drive. It has just escaped me lately. Sometimes I wonder if it was all one big waste of time, as I sit and binge on House of Cards episodes.
I'm in a hole. Shit luck, bad losing streak or whatever you want to call it, I'm getting tired of "fighting", which means I'm just plain tired. If I could sleep the rest of my days, I don't think I would mind all that much. Of course, when you feel cruddy, being positive isn't all that easy, and it has been one hell of a winter/spring.
I mentioned that I was sick for two months with some kind of monster flu/virus/cold, but that was just the tip of the mountain of ice. In short, things suck right now, but I suppose being on the mend is better than where I was two days ago.
God, my let foot has been a disaster since that stress fracture led me to the idiot who gave me the cortisone shots. I've forgotten what it's like to even walk normally. Allow me to rant a little bit, because I have been through hell. With me, it seems it can never be something minor; it has to be an all-out catastrophe, though it has been pointed out to me that I'm "lucky" to still have a foot at this point. The worst way to try to make someone feel better is to point out that it could be worse. "Oh, you just slammed your hand in the car door? At least it wasn't your head." Yeah, works great. I'm sure the guy squirming and yelping with the mashed hand feels a ton better now.
The story...
After the surgery, my foot was hurting. That seemed normal, right? Maybe not. I get so used to feeling shitty that it becomes hard to tell what's normal pain and what requires more attention. The doctor checked how the foot was healing a week ago Monday, and it looked pretty good. It was looking better, and the stitches were supposed to come out the following week. For two days, nothing much changed, but by the third day I was limping more. I assumed the discomfort was from the rubbing my shoe was doing, so I cut up an old pair of shoes, leaving as little friction against the side as possible. That didn't seem to help much. My foot ached and was too painful to run on, so I switched to the bike, doing mostly easy workouts. I'm VERY out of shape lately. What was concerning was this low-grade fever that I couldn't seem to shake.
I struggled through the rest of the week, and when I woke up on Sunday, I knew something wasn't right. In addition to my foot being extra swollen, it was also bright red. Infection. It was obvious, so I called my doctor on his cell phone. Man, I hate bothering people, even when I know it's the right thing to do. He was super nice about everything and called in some oral antibiotics. Before work, I took a double dose, as he suggested. Somehow I managed to get through the day, but when I got home, the foot was worse. My mood wasn't helped when, on my way home, some out of control asshole tried to cut me off and then started yelling at me, flipping me off in the process. He wanted to make an extra wide turn in a double turn lane, forgetting that there are other people on the road. The situation escalated when I didn't respond to his monkey-like gestures, so he cut me off and slammed on his brakes. I'm not sure how I avoided the accident, but I did and laid all my anger out on my horn. Some people really are complete holes and need to be medicated.
Back to my foot...
Well, the thing looked awful. It got to the point where I couldn't really put my weight on it. It looked like an over-stuffed burrito, just ready to burst at the seams. And it was an angry pink, the scars stretched and raised up against the pressure building inside. I called the doctor again, and he told me to get to the hospital. Had I known what was in store, I'm not so sure I would have gone so willingly, but it needed to be done.
(If you're eating, you might want to set your Fruit Loops aside at this point)
People tell me that I have a high pain tolerance. I think at times that's true, but prolonged pain reduces me to a wimp. When the ER doc told me she was going to have to open the wound a little, I knew it wouldn't be pleasant. When she looked at me and told me flat out that it was going to hurt, my stomach felt queasy. It already hurt, so the thought of anyone even touching my foot made me cringe. The last time I was told not this is going to hurt a little bit or this is going to hurt for a short time, but simply this is going to hurt, I was in the ER after severing a tendon in my hand. The doctor had to give me several shots around the base of my thumb, and I was told to breathe through the pain, which I did. While that was bad, it was NOTHING compared to what I went through with the inflamed foot. Holy shit. This was a bloody red, supreme kind of pain, the kind that makes you whimper and beg for it to stop in your head. At one point, I think I yelped, but it didn't stop her from poking that needle around in the wound, jabbing it up and down and then left and right. Before it was even numb, she started squeezing out the puss, which, mixed with a bit of blood, oozed down my foot in a thin line. After that and a good cry, I felt at least a little bit better.
I was put on an IV and given antibiotics. I was worn out, but my foot was achy and throbbing, too irritated to allow me any rest. It took about an hour and a half to administer the medication. I got to listen to a flock of kids who brought their friend to the ER after he had been yarfing, probably due to some kind of flu. I started to feel very alone, but not necessarily lonely, more just sad about my own situation. No pain meds when driving, so I was sent home with 4 Percocet. I took one and passed out for a long time in my cozy little bed.
So, I haven't been exercising, and I can't say I give much of a crap at this point. Maybe I will start to care when I realize how grossly out of shape I have become, but for now, all I want is for this fever to go away. I'm on one of the most powerful oral antibiotics out there, so the infection should clear up soon. I have one more draining to do today, and hopefully that will be the last of those things. The stitches are all out now, and the swelling is down too, though my ankle still hidden under the puffiness.
So yeah, shit luck. Some years are worse than others.
I'm in a hole. Shit luck, bad losing streak or whatever you want to call it, I'm getting tired of "fighting", which means I'm just plain tired. If I could sleep the rest of my days, I don't think I would mind all that much. Of course, when you feel cruddy, being positive isn't all that easy, and it has been one hell of a winter/spring.
I mentioned that I was sick for two months with some kind of monster flu/virus/cold, but that was just the tip of the mountain of ice. In short, things suck right now, but I suppose being on the mend is better than where I was two days ago.
God, my let foot has been a disaster since that stress fracture led me to the idiot who gave me the cortisone shots. I've forgotten what it's like to even walk normally. Allow me to rant a little bit, because I have been through hell. With me, it seems it can never be something minor; it has to be an all-out catastrophe, though it has been pointed out to me that I'm "lucky" to still have a foot at this point. The worst way to try to make someone feel better is to point out that it could be worse. "Oh, you just slammed your hand in the car door? At least it wasn't your head." Yeah, works great. I'm sure the guy squirming and yelping with the mashed hand feels a ton better now.
The story...
After the surgery, my foot was hurting. That seemed normal, right? Maybe not. I get so used to feeling shitty that it becomes hard to tell what's normal pain and what requires more attention. The doctor checked how the foot was healing a week ago Monday, and it looked pretty good. It was looking better, and the stitches were supposed to come out the following week. For two days, nothing much changed, but by the third day I was limping more. I assumed the discomfort was from the rubbing my shoe was doing, so I cut up an old pair of shoes, leaving as little friction against the side as possible. That didn't seem to help much. My foot ached and was too painful to run on, so I switched to the bike, doing mostly easy workouts. I'm VERY out of shape lately. What was concerning was this low-grade fever that I couldn't seem to shake.
I struggled through the rest of the week, and when I woke up on Sunday, I knew something wasn't right. In addition to my foot being extra swollen, it was also bright red. Infection. It was obvious, so I called my doctor on his cell phone. Man, I hate bothering people, even when I know it's the right thing to do. He was super nice about everything and called in some oral antibiotics. Before work, I took a double dose, as he suggested. Somehow I managed to get through the day, but when I got home, the foot was worse. My mood wasn't helped when, on my way home, some out of control asshole tried to cut me off and then started yelling at me, flipping me off in the process. He wanted to make an extra wide turn in a double turn lane, forgetting that there are other people on the road. The situation escalated when I didn't respond to his monkey-like gestures, so he cut me off and slammed on his brakes. I'm not sure how I avoided the accident, but I did and laid all my anger out on my horn. Some people really are complete holes and need to be medicated.
Back to my foot...
Well, the thing looked awful. It got to the point where I couldn't really put my weight on it. It looked like an over-stuffed burrito, just ready to burst at the seams. And it was an angry pink, the scars stretched and raised up against the pressure building inside. I called the doctor again, and he told me to get to the hospital. Had I known what was in store, I'm not so sure I would have gone so willingly, but it needed to be done.
(If you're eating, you might want to set your Fruit Loops aside at this point)
People tell me that I have a high pain tolerance. I think at times that's true, but prolonged pain reduces me to a wimp. When the ER doc told me she was going to have to open the wound a little, I knew it wouldn't be pleasant. When she looked at me and told me flat out that it was going to hurt, my stomach felt queasy. It already hurt, so the thought of anyone even touching my foot made me cringe. The last time I was told not this is going to hurt a little bit or this is going to hurt for a short time, but simply this is going to hurt, I was in the ER after severing a tendon in my hand. The doctor had to give me several shots around the base of my thumb, and I was told to breathe through the pain, which I did. While that was bad, it was NOTHING compared to what I went through with the inflamed foot. Holy shit. This was a bloody red, supreme kind of pain, the kind that makes you whimper and beg for it to stop in your head. At one point, I think I yelped, but it didn't stop her from poking that needle around in the wound, jabbing it up and down and then left and right. Before it was even numb, she started squeezing out the puss, which, mixed with a bit of blood, oozed down my foot in a thin line. After that and a good cry, I felt at least a little bit better.
I was put on an IV and given antibiotics. I was worn out, but my foot was achy and throbbing, too irritated to allow me any rest. It took about an hour and a half to administer the medication. I got to listen to a flock of kids who brought their friend to the ER after he had been yarfing, probably due to some kind of flu. I started to feel very alone, but not necessarily lonely, more just sad about my own situation. No pain meds when driving, so I was sent home with 4 Percocet. I took one and passed out for a long time in my cozy little bed.
So, I haven't been exercising, and I can't say I give much of a crap at this point. Maybe I will start to care when I realize how grossly out of shape I have become, but for now, all I want is for this fever to go away. I'm on one of the most powerful oral antibiotics out there, so the infection should clear up soon. I have one more draining to do today, and hopefully that will be the last of those things. The stitches are all out now, and the swelling is down too, though my ankle still hidden under the puffiness.
So yeah, shit luck. Some years are worse than others.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Letting Loose
I need a break from struggling through article writing. Editors are great when they know what they are talking about, but every once in a while, one pops up who seems to be drifting into the vast regions of Hilbert space. Having an editor who does things in a way that's different from everyone else makes writing these soul-sucking articles that much more of a challenge.
The foot is recovering. It was a tad more painful than I expected, but I also wasn't given any narcotics to ease me into a different realm. I had to make do with over the counter generic pain pills. Other than my foot swelling and looking a little bit like an over-stuffed Weißwurst, there hasn't been a whole lot to report. I accidentally popped a scab near one of the stitches when I was rushing to take a shower before work after a hectic Sunday morning. My mom fractured her foot the day before but didn't know it, and I had to take her to urgent care the following morning. The two of us have matching limps now. I tried a jog Monday, but there's too much pressure on the stitching. I also seem to be getting a low-grade fever off and on with this. It shouldn't be too much longer before I can get back to at least jogging, but I have to wait until I can tie my shoe. Biking seems harmless. With the winds lately, I guess it's a good time to be indoors. Well, today I'm being a bum, because the fever is a bit more than I expected. I will be training again soon enough. Rough winter this year, damn.
*****************************
Recently, a couple of coyotes were shot, because one of them nipped in the general direction of a kid who was out playing near a creek in an open-space area. This seems wrong to me, mostly because it was on open space, not in the kid's back yard, though I can't say I would want any animal shot even if it ventured into a back yard. I'm not going to pretend I know what the perfect solution is to these kinds of situations, but people around here seem to be animal-rights activists only if the issue relates to their own dog that has a right to be off leash and jumping up on every living creature within three miles. Those who think otherwise are ANIMAL ABUSERS, but it's OK to shoot the dingo, right? It just seems weird that we expect wild animals to know that they should stay away from Pomeranian-sized snacks and avoid Hobbit-sized beings encroaching on their territory.
Someone suggested beating the coyotes, and others suggested that carrying guns would solve the problem. Not to be condescending, but what kind of bizarre lesson is a beating supposed to teach the coyote? Let's see, days after the incident, round up all the coyotes in the area and, assuming the one that did the nipping is among them, give them all a good pummeling. That will teach 'em! The gun thing? "Oops, I thought your little Rusty was a bear. Sorry!" Yeah, that's a smart solution; just have everyone carry a gun on open space and shoot at anything rustling in the bushes. I'm thinking relocation of the animals when possible, wildlife education and posting warning signs about animal sighting might be better solution, but who wants to be reasonable when you have the opportunity kill or badly injure a coyote?
I don't know. I guess I haven't changed my opinions much from when I was little and secretly hoped that Wile E would catch the roadrunner. I'm still rooting for the coyote. That doesn't mean I wanted the kid to get eaten, but I also don't like to know that two poor animals are dead because they did what was natural to them. Let's hope that the female they shot wasn't simply protecting her pups.
The foot is recovering. It was a tad more painful than I expected, but I also wasn't given any narcotics to ease me into a different realm. I had to make do with over the counter generic pain pills. Other than my foot swelling and looking a little bit like an over-stuffed Weißwurst, there hasn't been a whole lot to report. I accidentally popped a scab near one of the stitches when I was rushing to take a shower before work after a hectic Sunday morning. My mom fractured her foot the day before but didn't know it, and I had to take her to urgent care the following morning. The two of us have matching limps now. I tried a jog Monday, but there's too much pressure on the stitching. I also seem to be getting a low-grade fever off and on with this. It shouldn't be too much longer before I can get back to at least jogging, but I have to wait until I can tie my shoe. Biking seems harmless. With the winds lately, I guess it's a good time to be indoors. Well, today I'm being a bum, because the fever is a bit more than I expected. I will be training again soon enough. Rough winter this year, damn.
*****************************
Someone suggested beating the coyotes, and others suggested that carrying guns would solve the problem. Not to be condescending, but what kind of bizarre lesson is a beating supposed to teach the coyote? Let's see, days after the incident, round up all the coyotes in the area and, assuming the one that did the nipping is among them, give them all a good pummeling. That will teach 'em! The gun thing? "Oops, I thought your little Rusty was a bear. Sorry!" Yeah, that's a smart solution; just have everyone carry a gun on open space and shoot at anything rustling in the bushes. I'm thinking relocation of the animals when possible, wildlife education and posting warning signs about animal sighting might be better solution, but who wants to be reasonable when you have the opportunity kill or badly injure a coyote?
I don't know. I guess I haven't changed my opinions much from when I was little and secretly hoped that Wile E would catch the roadrunner. I'm still rooting for the coyote. That doesn't mean I wanted the kid to get eaten, but I also don't like to know that two poor animals are dead because they did what was natural to them. Let's hope that the female they shot wasn't simply protecting her pups.
Monday, March 11, 2013
The Storm
It seems that when I go to blog lately, I can't think of what I want to say. I know I have been neglecting this place, but my mind has been occupied.
It also seems that the world is filling up with more arrogant people, and this diminishes my desire to participate in life. If I were religious, I might point to signs of the coming of Al-Massih ad-Dajjal. Fortunately, I tend to attribute these omens more to the imbalance and greed that capitalism tends to create and the increasing lack of social responsibility those at the top, whether in the media or in congress, have than to anything religious. I'm lucky that I have had a few opportunities to surround myself with passionate people who tend to give my sagging motivation a boost when needed, though.
I'm horribly out of shape, but I can't get over how sick I was. For two months, I was dragging myself around, and, during one of those months, I had some kind of super flu/cold thing that left me coughing, feverish and wanting to sleep for 18 hours a day. The tests from the hospital came back negative, but I heard other people with this same illness were out of commission for over a month, too. Just as I'm feeling better, I'm facing round three with my foot. Fortunately, the procedure I will get this week is not full surgery, more of an out-patient affair that won't leave me down for too long. Maybe once my foot is in working order, I can begin to train again. In the meantime, jogging 44 or 55 minutes has been my super-duper long "run" maximum. Sigh.
Even though I probably "shouldn't" feel this way, I hate asking people for favors. Even asking for my shifts at work to be covered was an effort, not because anyone wouldn't consider working but because I simply hate asking anyone for anything. I have also decided to take a cab home from the doctor instead of asking anyone for a ride. It makes me realize that part of the reason I was struggling so much with this illness was because I couldn't seem to get people to understand what I needed. Guilt is a bitch. I felt guilty for admitting that I really needed to stay in bed, so I didn't. There's this weird feeling that I don't want to owe anyone anything, too. I ended up fighting my desire to rest and went to work, met with people and tried to go on with my life as if nothing was wrong. I should have just said fuck it and slept for three days straight, taken a week off work and been done with it. A few times I got sent home, because I looked terrible and my fever was showing. Clearly I need to work on stating what I need more clearly and adamantly.
Because I'm struggling with what I want to say and how I want to say it, I will just offer another video. This one is strange, no doubt. The animation is fantastic, though, and it's packed with all kinds of symbolism. Look closely at background images. It's a total trip.
One last thing, Boulder Youth Body Alliance will be ceasing operations later this year. This is very sad news.
It also seems that the world is filling up with more arrogant people, and this diminishes my desire to participate in life. If I were religious, I might point to signs of the coming of Al-Massih ad-Dajjal. Fortunately, I tend to attribute these omens more to the imbalance and greed that capitalism tends to create and the increasing lack of social responsibility those at the top, whether in the media or in congress, have than to anything religious. I'm lucky that I have had a few opportunities to surround myself with passionate people who tend to give my sagging motivation a boost when needed, though.
I'm horribly out of shape, but I can't get over how sick I was. For two months, I was dragging myself around, and, during one of those months, I had some kind of super flu/cold thing that left me coughing, feverish and wanting to sleep for 18 hours a day. The tests from the hospital came back negative, but I heard other people with this same illness were out of commission for over a month, too. Just as I'm feeling better, I'm facing round three with my foot. Fortunately, the procedure I will get this week is not full surgery, more of an out-patient affair that won't leave me down for too long. Maybe once my foot is in working order, I can begin to train again. In the meantime, jogging 44 or 55 minutes has been my super-duper long "run" maximum. Sigh.
Even though I probably "shouldn't" feel this way, I hate asking people for favors. Even asking for my shifts at work to be covered was an effort, not because anyone wouldn't consider working but because I simply hate asking anyone for anything. I have also decided to take a cab home from the doctor instead of asking anyone for a ride. It makes me realize that part of the reason I was struggling so much with this illness was because I couldn't seem to get people to understand what I needed. Guilt is a bitch. I felt guilty for admitting that I really needed to stay in bed, so I didn't. There's this weird feeling that I don't want to owe anyone anything, too. I ended up fighting my desire to rest and went to work, met with people and tried to go on with my life as if nothing was wrong. I should have just said fuck it and slept for three days straight, taken a week off work and been done with it. A few times I got sent home, because I looked terrible and my fever was showing. Clearly I need to work on stating what I need more clearly and adamantly.
Because I'm struggling with what I want to say and how I want to say it, I will just offer another video. This one is strange, no doubt. The animation is fantastic, though, and it's packed with all kinds of symbolism. Look closely at background images. It's a total trip.
One last thing, Boulder Youth Body Alliance will be ceasing operations later this year. This is very sad news.
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